


Deep in the Woods (Where My Heart Has Been Waiting)

by SilverMyfanwy



Series: Silver writes Stucky [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Artist Steve Rogers, Bathing/Washing, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Cabin Fic, Cabins, Chickens, Chores, Cows, Gay Steve Rogers, Getting Together, Goats, Guns, Horses, Immigration & Emigration, Implied/Referenced Sex, Irish Steve Rogers, Knitting, Knives, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Mercenaries, Misunderstandings, Moving In Together, Mud, Nightmares, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pigs, Pioneer Era, Pneumonia, Romanian Bucky Barnes, Sharing a Bed, Sheep, Small Towns, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23139169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMyfanwy/pseuds/SilverMyfanwy
Summary: Steve Rogers gets lost in the woods in a snowstorm. Bucky Barnes takes him in.-Pioneer-era AU ish with Shrinkyclinks, evil chickens and a cabin in the woods.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Series: Silver writes Stucky [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625071
Comments: 59
Kudos: 152
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [В чаще леса (где ждало мое сердце)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24700024) by [SilverMyfanwy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMyfanwy/pseuds/SilverMyfanwy)



> Third MTH 2019 fic! Yay!  
> Thank you to kalika_999 for letting me write this! It's been a lot of fun.  
> Pioneer/wild west- ish era, except I took out the racism/sexism/homophobia because there's too much of that in real life anyway and fics are more fun without it.
> 
> Note: this fic is posted on ficbook.net as a Russian translation. It was translated and posted by скромные апартаменты with my permission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings in end notes.

It wasn’t unusual for at least one cow to be running loose in the market. Steve barely even blinked as he abruptly stopped walking in order to avoid getting crashed into by the cow.

The owner of the cow seemed relaxed about the whole thing until Sam, who had clearly seen the altercation, came running up to Steve’s side and started yelling at him. “Get your cow under control! I nearly trampled my friend and it’ll trample someone else in a minute if you don’t catch it!”

Sam patted Steve on the back. “You alright? Not like you to not do the yelling yourself.”

Steve turned his head so that Sam could see his fading black eye from two nights before. “I-”

“-’ve decided to give up getting into unnecessary fights and arguments?” Sam asked hopefully.

Steve scowled at him. “Of course not! I hadn’t realised who owned the cow and there’s no point yelling at it; it wasn’t its fault.”

Sam sighed. “I can live in hope.” he swung an arm around Steve’s shoulders and they began to walk towards the store. “So, what are we doing today?”

“I need more paint from the store so that I can start Mr Fury’s house.” Steve said.

“And what am I doing?”

“Fixing his porch. He was supposed to tell you so that you’d know what tools to bring.”

“He must have forgotten.” Sam said. “I’ll go back to mine and get the stuff I need. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Steve nodded and continued walking as Sam headed off to another part of town. He made his way through the busy marketplace slowly, trying not to get in anyone’s way, and shortly found himself lying on his stomach with his face in the dirt and all the air knocked out of his lungs. He rolled onto his back, coughing and spluttering out dust and mud.

“Sorry.”

Steve looked up to see a man towering above him with long, dark hair and gloved hands. "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry." the man said again.

Steve scrambled to his feet to give the man a piece of his mind, but the man had already disappeared into the crowd.

Steve was fuming. He was covered in dirt; his ribs were aching and the man who'd made him fall hadn't even bothered to try and help him up. "Watch where you're going, you worm!" Steve yelled in the vague direction he thought that the man had gone in. He was slightly, secretly, grateful that the man hadn't stuck around long enough for him to get into a fight with because he looked like he could have eaten Steve for breakfast.

But there was nothing that he could do now, so Steve dusted himself off and headed for the store.

-

“Normally I would ask someone with a face like yours who spat in their coffee this morning but because it’s you, I want to know who pulled you out of a fight ‘fore you got a chance to do a satisfactory level of yelling.” Tony Stark drawled from behind the counter of the store as Steve walked in.

“Some guy knocked me over in the square.” Steve spat. “Was a right proper-”

Tony’ wife, Pepper, walked in from the back of the store and Steve immediately stopped talking. “Good morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning Steve.” Pepper smiled. “You’re wearing the face you have when you were about to swear and then a woman walks in, so you don’t.”

“I don’t do it for women on the basis of their being women, ma’am.” Steve assured Pepper. “I do it for people with class who I don’t want to offend. And how do you two suddenly know all my facial expressions?”

Tony stared at Steve in horror. “So, you’ll swear in front of me but not in front of her?”

“Yep.”

Pepper cackled. “And I’ve got class and he doesn’t?”

“That’s the way I see it.”

“You are no longer my favourite customer.” Tony said indignantly. “You can shop at Hammer’s and I wouldn’t care. Except that Hammer left town because I ran him out in the classiest way possible.”

“Tony, you told the sheriff that he wasn’t selling pure brown sugar when he said he was and that some of it was maple sugar and you’d had Bruce test it. The sheriff were slightly irritated and then the real reason Hammer left town was because Peter Parker caught him cheating at the boot toss at the fair and everyone started boycotting him. Which is not particularly classy.” Pepper paused. “Anyway, enough of that. What can we get you today, Steve?”

-

When Steve was painting a house for a client, he would go to their house with paint in the colour they had requested, brushes and a ladder. If the owner of the house wasn’t in when he arrived, which was normally the case, he simply got to work and he’d see them at some point during the day when they would discuss the work, the weather and the day’s news. In keeping with his routine, he arrived at Fury’s house and got to work with the white paint that had been requested. Sam arrived not long after him.

“This porch is really bad.” he called around the side of the house to where Steve was deciding whether he needed to take the old paint off or not. He decided not to. “I think there are worms living in it.”

“Woodworms?”

“No, earthworms.” there was silence for a moment. “It’s coz he’s got plants on top of it. I think the worms are intentional.”

“Ah.”

Sometime in mid-afternoon, Fury came to inspect how they were getting along. He seemed perfectly satisfied with Sam’s work and then came to look at Steve’s.

Steve took a break for a moment to see how Fury would react. “What do you think?”

“I want it blue.” Fury decided.

Steve bit his lip and stared up at the wall that he had just almost completely covered with white paint. “You want it blue?”

“Yep.”

Steve tried his hardest not to scream. “I can’t buy blue paint at this time of year.”

“Can you make blue paint?”

“I could go to the woods and I might be able to find a plant I can use as a dye to change the colour of the paint.” Steve suggested, rubbing the back of his neck and hoping that Fury would change his mind and not send him trekking through the woods when it had suddenly got cold, would be dark soon and would take a number of hours to get enough of the plant that he needed.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

 _Curse my big mouth_. Steve thought, except with rather more swear words.

-

Steve should have stuck to the path.

He also should have got Sam to go with him in the hope that two brains were better than one when it came to finding your way back home when you were lost.

It would also have been a good idea to bring a cloak and a lantern.

The temperature had dropped rapidly from the moment Steve had entered the woods and dark had come running over the horizon like it had warm dinner waiting for it at home. The looming shadows of the trees and the bushes slotted in the gaps between them blocked out any sign of the path and Steve was clinging to straws to try and find his way back.

Then the snow arrived and froze the straws.

Steve staggered through the wind and snow, shivering and soaked, stubbornly convinced that he was going the right way and that it was the moonlight filtering through the tree branches that made his fingers look blue, not frostbite.

Then a path didn’t appear and the snow didn’t let up. His feet were numb, like his hands and most of his face.

He didn’t have a hope of making it through the night, but he was Steve Rogers and he’d never paid any attention to odds, which is perhaps why he was still alive in the first place.

A light appeared in the distance and at first Steve thought that it was just a particularly low, bright star that was shining through the trees, but then the light got bigger and brighter until Steve was close enough to see that it was a candle shining in a window.

Even if he consciously hadn’t been anywhere near giving up and collapsing in the snow, his sub-consciousness was and had been just about to kick into action. A sudden wave of energy rushed through him and he stumbled blindly towards the light, with no idea what his surroundings were, other than the promise of warmth and light only a wall away from him.

He hammered on the door with what little of his strength remained. It swung open only a few moments later.

“Who the hell-”

Steve hadn’t even seen what the man looked like before he collapsed in a heap in the doorway. The man scooped him up with ease, one arm strong bones and muscular flesh and the other just as strong but made of something else entirely. The man took him into the cabin- which was warm, so bone-achingly soul-meltingly warm and good and Steve didn’t think he’d ever felt such appreciation for fire in his life- and kicked the door shut behind him. In three sweeping strides, the man crossed the room and placed Steve in a chair in front of the fire.

“Wait there.” he said, voice so commanding that Steve didn’t even contemplate answering back and walked away. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve noticed a flash of silver.

The heat from the fire crackling in the grate began to work its magic and Steve’s vision focused as his toes defrosted and feeling returned to his face and fingers. He was sitting on a dark red armchair next to a cow-skin rug with thick logs of birch burning in the grate. It was a log cabin, with what looked like only one room, and it must have had another chimney at the other end because there was no room for a stove to fit into the fireplace Steve was staring at. He was itching to know what his rescuer looked like, but he was still too cold to turn away from the fire towards the rest of the room. Then the man returned and Steve could look at him all he wanted.

He was tall- far taller than Steve- and wearing a shirt with a sleeve for his right arm but not for his left. On his left side he didn’t have an arm in the same way that Steve did, instead he had what looked like an arm made entirely out of metal. Steve had never seen anything like it.

Brown hair brushed across the tops of his shoulders, eyes the colour of harsh seas that Steve could swim in forever and sweeping over Steve as if to calculate the potential risk he could hold.

And he was really, really hot.

He walked over to Steve with a blanket and placed it over him. “What’s your name?” he asked quietly, with a voice that would have sent shivers down Steve’s spine had he not been shivering already.

“Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“I’m Bucky. Barnes.” the man said. “How’d you end up out here in the middle of a snowfall wearing clothes like that?”

“I was looking for woad.” Steve said.

“Why were you looking for woad?” Bucky asked, eyebrows furrowed. “It doesn’t grow at this time of year.”

“Which I guess is why I didn’t find any.” Steve retorted.

“Why were you looking for woad anyway?”

“I paint stuff for people. I needed blue paint.”

“Well, you don’t need blue paint right now.” Bucky grunted. “Stay there and stay still.” he walked out of Steve’s line of vision.

“Where are you going?” Steve began to realise just how precarious his situation was.

“You need food.” Bucky clunked around somewhere behind Steve.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve said. “I’ll- I’ll be on my way in a minute. You don’t need to-” he shrugged the blanket off himself and tried to stand up. His legs promptly have way beneath him and he crumpled to the floor.

Bucky came rushing over. “I told you to stay still!”

“And I told you I would be fine!” Steve retorted, but he let Bucky help him back onto the chair without protest. “Thank you.”

“Now stay there.” Bucky said firmly. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get you food.”

The cold was still gnawing at Steve’s bones slightly and he hardly noticed the time between Bucky leaving and then coming back. He held a bowl of something steaming out to Steve. “Here. Eat it.”

Steve took the bowl and began to spoon the porridge into his mouth as fast as he could without burning all his taste buds off.

“Take your time.” Bucky said. “Or you’ll burn yourself and get sick.” he waited until Steve slowed down and then walked over to the window to move the lantern and shut the curtain. “It’s a big snow. You live in town?”

Steve nodded.

“You ain’t gonna be going home tonight.” Bucky said bluntly. “Snow’s too thick and heavy and it’s way too cold. You’d be dead and lost within a meter. You can stay with me.”

“Thank you.” Steve rested the bowl on his lap. “I’m sorry for what I said and did earlier.”

“No worries.” Bucky leaned back into this chair and crossed his legs. “Why’d you come looking for woad? Surely you can buy blue paint.”

“Not at this time of year. My client asked for white paint, so I painted a wall of his house white, and then he changed his mind and asked for blue paint.”

“I don’t like him.” Bucky declared.

“I don’t like him either.” Steve muttered. He sneezed.

Bucky looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh no you don’t.”

Steve gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“There is no way I am letting you get a cold if I am going to have you in my cabin for at least a day. I’ll get you some tea.”

Steve stared at Bucky’s arm as he got up and walked away again.

“You an artist, then, or do you just do general odd jobs?” Bucky asked.

“I paint and draw and stuff. I work a lot with my friend Sam. He fixes and builds things; I paint stuff for people.” he sneezed again. “What do you do?”

“I keep myself going along here. Got crops and animals and there’s always something to catch or repair.” Bucky returned to Steve with a mug of tea. “Drink this. It should help stop you from getting a cold. And it’s going to taste vile.”

Steve took a sip of the tea and grimaced. “What is this?”

“Garlic and rosemary.”

“It is vile.”

Bucky sat down again. “Sorry.”

“Thank you anyway.”

“No worries.”

“I get sick really easily.” Steve said quietly. “This might not manage to fend off a cold completely.”

“If we make sure that you stay warm and you keep drinking that, you should be okay. It’s pretty powerful.” Bucky assured him. “Is there anyone who might be out looking for you or be worried about you or notice that you’re missing?”

“Sam, the guy I work with. He’ll notice but he’ll probably just think I’m ill at home.”

“You get ill that often?

“Yeah.”

“You drink twice as much of that then.” Bucky ordered. “And then sleep.” he got up to put more wood on the fire and Steve noticed that Bucky had only ever sat still for about a minute at a time before moving around again. Then he looked at Steve with a shuddering intensity and Steve began to think of something else entirely.

“You’re gonna get too cold if you sleep by yourself.” Bucky said. “You sleep with me.”

Steve squawked slightly and spluttered on the tea. He could feel his face going red and prayed that Bucky would put it down to the fire or the tea or the oncoming cold.

“I meant share my bed.” Bucky muttered, looking as if he may have been blushing slightly too. “Body heat. I’ll, um, go and get some extra blankets.”

Steve gulped down the tea and reminded himself that he was in a cabin in a wood in the middle of a snowstorm, with a man who had a metal arm, so it was a good idea to behave himself and not say anything.

“You getting tired?” Bucky asked, voice low.

“I probably should have gone to bed a while ago.” Steve lied. He normally went to bed around this time, but Bucky didn’t know that and there was no harm in Bucky going to bed with him immediately.

“Do you want to put some other clothes on to sleep in?” Bucky asked, then frowned and shook his head. “Those clothes will still be damp. I’ll get you some other things.”

The shirt Bucky got for him went down to his knees. He probably could have fitted his legs in the trousers twice, at a stretch, and Steve had a slightly anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want Bucky to laugh at him, because he knew he would look ridiculous in the clothes. He stepped out from behind the paper screen Bucky had set up with his head down. Bucky didn’t laugh, though he swallowed and his face went slightly red. Steve had no idea why.

“Are you- are you ready?” his voice was hoarse.

Steve nodded.

“Lie down and I’ll get the light off.”

The bed was low and covered in quilts. Steve lay down and turned his face to the wall. The light went out. He prayed- exactly what for he wasn’t sure.

He stayed stock still as Bucky got into bed behind him.

Their backs were against each other.

Steve’s heart was pounding, but that could just have been because that was the kind of thing it did.

He only meant to close his eyes for a second, then the next thing he knew he was dreaming of the muscles he could feel in Bucky’s back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> Mentions of fights and a black eye  
> Mention of frostbite  
> Mention of illness  
> Someone's legs give out temporarily
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! silvermyfanwy


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings in end notes.  
> Stay safe everyone!

Steve woke up alone in a strange bed, in a strange room in a cabin with a smell he didn’t recognise. His back ached from sleeping on his side all night and as he rolled his shoulders with a wince, he remembered where he was. He couldn’t feel Bucky behind him so decided that it was safe enough to turn onto his back, which he did with a thump.

There was one candle burning in the dark of the cabin and as Steve’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light, he could see Bucky tying his boots on while sitting on the floor. The candle was just behind his face and illuminated his profile- stubble working its way up his jaw, lips pressed tightly together, eyebrows furrowed and eyes shimmering in the light. His hair framed the sides of his face and curled around the edge of his jawline.

Bucky glanced up and saw Steve, who blushed and prayed that Bucky wouldn’t notice he had been staring. “Morning. Any sign of that cold?”

Steve shook his head and his heart skipped a beat at the smirk that cross Bucky’s face.

“Told you that tea would work.” he finished lacing his boots and stood up to give Steve a hand out of bed. “We are very, very snowed in. I’ll be lucky if I can make it to the barn.”

“If you’ve got chores to do, I can give you a hand.” Steve offered.

Bucky smiled, looking slightly surprised. “You gonna be okay with that?”

Steve scowled and folded his arms. “Yes.”

“Alright. We’ll eat first. Your clothes should have dried by now, you can put them back on.”

Steve had ever so slightly hoped that Bucky would have been wrong about the snow and that by the time they had got outside a clear path back to town would have melted away. He soon discovered that it hadn’t.

The sun was just coming up over the horizon and the rays reflected off the snow to light up the enormous snow drifts piled up against the walls of the cabin and the two other outbuildings that Steve hadn’t seen the night before because of the dark.

Behind him, Bucky rubbed his gloved hands together. “Let’s see whether we sink or not.” he took a cautious step out onto the snow, which crunched and compacted under his foot but stayed relatively firm. “We’re okay. Come on. Don’t fall over.”

Bucky led Steve over to one of the outbuildings, walking slowly across the snow.

“What’s in that barn?” Steve asked.

“Cows. Two of them. Two horses. Goats. Pigs and chickens are in the other barn. Tools and straw in here as well.”

“What are we doing in there?”

“Checking that none of them have frozen.” Bucky listed. “Feeding them. Making sure they have enough food in case it starts to snow again and I can’t get out to feed them again. We might get a sugar snow tonight. That would be good.”

“What’s a sugar snow?”

“Means we can make sugar out of sap from the trees.”

They reached the barn and Bucky opened the door. Steve was immediately hit by the smell of the animals and the straw. A pair of cows mooed contentedly at the sight of Bucky and one of them kicked at the grill stopping them from escaping. Bucky swore.

“Their water will have frozen.” he explained to Steve and picked up a stick leaning against the wall which he then pushed into a trough and started hammering up and down. Each movement was followed by the sound of splintering ice.

Steve gazed around at the rest of the barn. The sheep were penned in at the opposite end to the cows, under a hay loft. There was a rack of tools pinned to the wall next to the door and one of the sheep was nibbling at a corner of it. “Bucky, is that sheep supposed to be eating-”

Bucky glanced up from the trough. “No.” he walked over to the rack and pushed the sheep away from the tools. “No. Eat the hay, do you have any idea how hard I worked for you to be able to have straw to eat in the winter and then you go and eat this? No. It’ll make you ill.”

The sheep settled down and returned to eating straw. Bucky went back to smashing ice up.

“I thought it was goats that ate stuff they shouldn’t, not sheep.” Steve said, watching the goats eating their own straw.

Bucky shook his head. “Not these ones. They’re good as gold.”

“Do you want me to do anything?” Steve offered.

“Could you get a bale down from the hay loft?”

“Yeah.” Steve walked over to the ladder, gave it one good long look and decided that he could probably manage to climb it and took the first step. It was no harder than climbing his ladder for work except that at the top he was going to have to try and tug down a bale of hay that probably weighed about half as much as he did.

He reached the hay loft and gave the first bale he reached a tug.

“You can throw it down to me if you want.” Bucky called up. “Just push it over the edge and I’ll catch it. They can be a bit of a pain to carry.”

Steve did as he was told and watched Bucky catch the bale with ease, putting it onto his shoulder and shaking half out to the cows and half out to the sheep. Bucky looked up at Steve and smiled. “Come on. We’ve got more work to do!”

-

There was another hour of chores before they went back into the cabin. Steve was freezing cold and his hands were numb by the time he got back in. “Your nose is going blue.” Bucky told him quietly. “Go and sit by the fire so you don’t get a cold.”

Steve went into the cabin ahead of Bucky and sat by the fire, holding his hands out. Bucky opened a cupboard and walked over to Steve with a tin of cornbread. “I’ll make some soup. Start eating this.”

-

“Where are you from?” Steve asked as they ate. “Your accent’s not from around here.”

“Neither is yours.” Bucky said. “I was born in Europe. The Kingdom of Romania.”

“Where’s that?”

Bucky gave him a dry look. “Europe.”

“Did you move here for land?”

Bucky shook his head. “Moved when I was a kid. My mother wanted a fresh start.”

Steve smiled. “Funny. That’s kinda how I got here too. My ma was from Ireland.”

“You don’t sound Irish.”

“That’s coz I’m not. I was born here. Well, not here. New York.”

“Been there.” Bucky said. “Lived there for a while too.”

“I was really sick when I was a kid,” Steve began, then paused at the look Bucky gave him. “What?”

“You’re saying you’re not really sick _now_?”

“Not compared to then I’m not. Just before I turned eighteen, the doctor told me I should move out here coz the air would be better for my lungs. I didn’t want to make my ma move but she died not long after, so I came out here by myself. How did you end up here?”

Bucky was silent and stirred his soup for a moment. “Work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Mercenary.” Bucky said quietly. “Needed money and needed it quick. Signed onto a guy at eighteen and went all over for him.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “You went to _Canada_?”

Bucky laughed. “Went further than that. Africa. Islands in the Caribbean. Spent a little while in Canada, but mostly I was in America.” he sighed and stared into the distance. “And then I lost my arm.”

“Where did you get your metal arm from?” Steve asked, curious.

“It was built for me. The guy I worked for had it made.”

“That was nice of him.”

A shadow fell across Bucky’s face and he stood up, walking over to the window. He swore.

“What is it?”

“It’s snowing again.” Bucky walked to the armchair, picked up a blanket, came back and draped it across Steve’s shoulders. “I’m going to make you more tea.”

“You really don’t want me to get a cold, do you?” Steve drew the blanket tighter around his shoulders as soon as Bucky’s back was turned.

“ _I_ really don’t want to get a cold.” Bucky said. “If I’m ill, I can’t look after myself or my animals or you and then we’re all doomed.” He paused. “Besides, you look as if a cold could finish you off in one fell swoop if it tried hard enough.”

“I’m not that weak!” Steve protested. “It’d take more than a cold to kill me.”

“Try pneumonia.” Bucky shot back, though his tone was light. He lit the fire on the stove. “That’d do it.”

“How on earth am I supposed to get pneumonia out here?”

Bucky shrugged. “I dunno. Just seems like the kind of thing you’d manage to catch off a doorknob.”

“I haven’t been sick in four months.” Steve said quietly. “I’m getting a lot better.”

Bucky smiled sadly at him. “Let’s hope it lasts coz there’s no way a doctor could get here in this weather.”

“Do you know what time it is?” Steve asked as Bucky brought more tea.

Bucky shook his head. “Go by the sun and how tired I am.” he glared at the window. “And at the moment there’s no sun.”

Bucky sat opposite Steve and watched him drink the tea; his gaze was soft embers from a fire going cold, wind blowing a layer of ash over them. It made Steve feel things he felt it would be prudent to ignore and he focused his attention on the cup in his hands.

It was made of china- _dainty_ \- and seemed just as out of place in Bucky’s cabin made of rough wood hammered together as a man like Steve did in Bucky’s bed. The pattern was of flowers, pale blue, gold base, grey handle with ridges. The rim was also grey and Steve slotted it between his lips as he drank, wondering how many times Bucky’s lips had done the same thing. Steve held the cup in two hands; for Bucky it probably took two fingers twined around the handle. The white behind the flowers was the colour of the pale skin of Bucky’s neck and…

Focusing his attention on the cup was not helping Steve turn his attention away from the inappropriate feelings at all.

“Can you knit?” Bucky asked abruptly.

Steve jolted out of his bubble of teacups and adoration.

“Can you knit socks?”

Steve shook his head.

Bucky walked over to the armchair and pulled a bulging seed sack out from underneath it. He took out an enormous mass of knitted something with two huge needles sticking out of it and placed it on Steve’s lap. “It’s a blanket. Stocking stitch. Can you do it?”

Steve nodded and Bucky smiled. “Good. I’ve got socks to work on.”

Pretty soon, the only sound that could be heard was the clicking of needles and the thud of snowflakes against the window. Knitting was a lot harder than Steve remembered and the blanket was giant, so by the time he’d completed two rows, Bucky -who could knit at the speed of lightning- had finished a sock.

“I’m gonna go and feed the animals.” He said. “I’ll make dinner when I get back. Hold this.”

He took a ball of wool out of the sack and gave it to Steve, holding onto the end of it. He tied the end around the table leg, then took the ball.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

“Making sure the storm doesn’t get me.” Bucky put on a coat, hat, scarf and gloves, then left the cabin with the unravelling ball of wool in his pocket. He returned ten minutes later, covered in snow.

“Could you really have got lost between here and the barns?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded.

Steve stared at the blanket. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

-

While they ate, the wind picked up outside and Bucky piled more wood onto the fire.

“It’ll be the same as last night.” Bucky said. “Share a bed. You get in first.”

They put night clothes on at opposite ends of the room and Steve hoped he wasn’t just imagining Bucky’s eyes on his back as he got into bed, back to the rest of the room. Bucky got in after him and lay with his front facing Steve’s back, rather than away from him.

Steve started to fall asleep quickly. He could feel Bucky’s breath on the back of his head and the warmth coming off him. Bucky wrapped an arm around him and pressed Steve’s back closer to his chest. Steve tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

He fell asleep safe and warm and _in Bucky’s arms_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of illness, including pneumonia.  
> Mention of mercenary work.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings in end notes.  
> Come say hi on tumblr! silvermyfanwy  
> Stay safe everyone!

Bucky woke up before Steve and rolled out of bed without disturbing him. He could see Steve’s peacefully slumbering form with golden hair and a face that-

He resisted temptation and stared firmly at his feet as he buttoned his shirt up.

The candle he’d lit the night before was almost out and Bucky was torn between letting it melt away so he wouldn’t be trying to resist staring at Steve and lighting another so he could see the way Steve’s face cast shadows over itself and lit up the handful of gleaming freckles scattered across the sides of his face.

He lit another candle with his back to Steve, then walked to the window with it to examine the state of the snow. There had been no new fall overnight and it looked as if some of it had melted away. With a bit of digging, the path would be safe and clear enough to get to town if Steve did catch that cold and need a doctor.

Bucky froze.

The path could be cleared and Steve could go home.

He swallowed and set the candle back on the table. He pulled a chair out and sat down numbly, no thought spared for the curtains he hadn’t drawn behind him.

It would be wrong of him to tell Steve that he couldn’t go home now if he didn’t want too. Granted, it was still freezing cold and was highly likely to snow again, but Steve could probably make it back. The town might have been snowed in worse or some other natural happening could have blocked the path or frozen a road somewhere else along the line, so it wasn’t _completely_ safe, but…

He couldn’t help but feel like he knew Steve from somewhere and the thought sat in his brain, chewing and chewing until he realised where he’d seen him before.

Then it clicked.

Steve was the man in the marketplace, the one he’d knocked over.

Steve had been with another man, one who had swung an arm around his shoulders and laughed with him.

Bucky swallowed.

Steve had never mentioned a boyfriend, but that man could well have been one, or someone interested.

Bucky didn’t really consider the second option to be a plausibility at all; his thought was fixed firmly on the first one and he went running off to a conclusion. Steve had a boyfriend, who was probably anxiously awaiting his return. He wouldn’t have mentioned the boyfriend when Bucky had asked if there was anyone who’d notice him missing because he was worried Bucky, his only real hope of survival, would be one of the few imbeciles who wouldn’t approve.

Bucky had done a lot of things in the twenty-eight years he’d spent walking the earth. He’d done a lot of bad things and he found himself desperately wishing he had the guts to do another. Moral crises had never been something he was much good at unravelling but from the way he saw it he had three options: not tell Steve he had a chance of being able to go home, which would be a terrible thing to do; telling Steve he might be able to get home but he should probably wait for the weather to improve a bit more; or simply taking Steve home.

Bucky had been so buried in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Steve waking up.

“Morning.” Steve said softly, then yawned.

“Morning.”

Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes. The clothes he was wearing were way too big for him; the neck of his shirt swinging past his collarbone and the sleeves hanging over the ends of his fingers. “You got chores done already this morning or do you want me to help you again?”

Bucky shook his head rapidly and immediately regretted it after seeing the look of hurt and disappointment on Steve’s face. “No, it’s alright. You, uh, you can get yourself some breakfast. I’m gonna go and get started; I’ve got a lot to do.” he pushed his chair back and grabbed his coat off the hook by the door, swinging it over his shoulders as he walked out of the cabin.

He shut the door behind himself and took a deep breath. He took several deep breaths and desperately wished he had the courage to go back in and tell Steve that he was sorry and scared and sort of-maybe-liked him but he knew Steve had a boyfriend so there was no way he would say all that much.

He put his hands in his pockets and stared at the snow slowly becoming visible.

There was only one thing he felt he could do now.

-

Steve stared after Bucky, shocked. He didn’t know how to react; Bucky’s sudden exit had been one of the last things he would have expected him to do. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the floor slightly numbly, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He couldn’t, so he got out of bed and walked, shivering, to the stove where there was a pan containing the leftover cornbread from the night before.

He took the pan over to the table and ate the bread slowly, legs tucked underneath himself and arms pressed close to his sides. He knew full well that he should put some warmer clothes on or at least crawl back under the blanket but some part of him, perhaps the part that had walked out of the door with Bucky, wouldn’t let him.

He wondered what it was that Bucky had to do that was so important and why he hadn’t wanted Steve’s help. He knew he wasn’t the most help in the world, but at the very least he was an extra pair of hands.

Perhaps he had been getting ahead of himself when he thought that Bucky enjoyed his company.

The bread started to stick in his throat and not just because it was dry. He scooped himself a beaker of water from the bucket in the corner and downed it in one go, then slowly got dressed.

Then he sat at the table and stared at the door, waiting for Bucky to come back.

-

Bucky came back far sooner than Steve had expected. His face was red from the cold and he was breathing heavily. He knocked the snow off his boots outside the front door, then walked in.

“You got all the chores done?” Steve asked, hoping that Bucky would be able to talk to him or give him more knitting to do or something.

Bucky pulled a wry face. “I, uh, I didn’t do the chores. Not all of them, anyway. I fed the animals but that was it. I, uh, I’ve checked the path that goes to town. It’s not completely safe but it’s safe enough for you to go home and see your boyfriend.” he hung his head and looked very firmly at his feet.

Steve frowned. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Bucky looked up suddenly, face awash with different emotions. “But the man you were with in the square…”

“What man? And when did you- I never met you before I came here two nights ago. Have you hit your head or something?” Steve was getting more and more confused.

“You did meet me before.” Bucky said in a rush, biting his lip and looking incredibly nervous. “The day you came here, I went to town to get some flour and I knocked you over in the square and I didn’t realise it until his morning and you were with that man and he had his arm around you so I thought he must be your boyfriend.”

“What, Sam?” Steve shook his head. “No. Sam’s just my friend. He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment.”

“Oh.”

It could have been Steve’s imagination, but Bucky seemed ever so slightly relieved.

“Do you, um, I could still try taking you back to town if you wanted.” Bucky offered. “I can hitch the horses up to the cart and drive you in.”

“Can I-” Steve swallowed. “Can I stay here for a bit longer? Just until it’s safer. I don’t want you or your horses to get hurt taking me in and I don’t want to trouble you with taking me down. When it’s warmed up a bit more I’ll walk there.”

“You can go whenever you want to, as long as it’s safe, and I’ll take you. It’s no trouble at all to take you and I’d feel better seeing you get home safe, but, um, if you’re staying here then I guess everything’s fine.” Bucky paused. “I’m really sorry I knocked you over. I get nervous in places where there are lots of people and I should have stayed longer to make sure you were okay.”

“It’s alright.” Steve said.

“So, uh, if you don’t have a boyfriend, do you have a girlfriend?” Bucky busied himself with untying his boots.

“No. I, uh, women are wonderful, but I’ve only ever been interested in any of them as friends.” Steve said quietly. “Did you have breakfast?”

“Yes.” Bucky lied. “It seems like it’s about lunch now. I’ve got eggs from the chickens. Is there cornbread left?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll fry the eggs and we’ll have it with the bread.”

They ate lunch in silence and then Bucky went back out to do more chores while Steve attempted to knit some more of the blanket. (He gave up fairly quickly and started whittling with a penknife and firewood instead.)

Just as dark began to fall, Bucky came back in with steaks from the smokehouse. “You okay with this for dinner tonight?”

Steve nodded.

“I’ll get vegetables out of the basement. Fry it. What are you making?” Bucky peered down at the piece of wood slowly being chipped away between Steve’s hands.

“I’m just killing it.” Steve said simply. “Do you want a hand with the food?”

“Could you heat up the oven up a bit while I get the vegetables out?” Bucky walked to a corner of the room and opened a hatch in the floor.

“Do you want me to put more wood on it?”

“Yeah. Squash and carrot tonight.” Bucky dropped into the hatch and threw up a handful of carrots and then placed a squash next to the opening before pulling himself out.

Steve opened the oven and threw more firewood on the stove. “Have you got a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Who would want to be in a relationship with the wild man in the woods?” Bucky said simply. He put the vegetables on the table and took a set of knives off a shelf. He started splitting the squash open. “Besides, hardly anyone knows I exist. And I don’t exactly look for a relationship, I suppose.”

“Do you go into town often?” Steve shut the door of the oven and with a nod from Bucky, took a knife and began slicing carrots length-ways.

“Not often. Once a month, probably, but I go when it’s quiet. Right at the end of the day, so if people do notice me, they’ll be tired and won’t pay proper attention. And I only got to the store.”

“Then why were you in the town in the morning the other day?”

“I was worried about the weather and didn’t want to get caught out by coming in the evening.” Bucky said.

“Do you not like seeing other people?”

Bucky hesitated but shook his head all the same. “I get scared.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know how people will react to my arm and I worry that people will recognize me.”

“Do you think there would be anyone who would recognise you?”

“It’s unlikely.” Bucky admitted.

“You’ll have to come and visit me when I’ve gone back home.” Steve said. “You can go to the bar with me and Sam and help him pull me out of fights.”

“You get into fights?” Bucky asked incredulously, pausing in his squash slaughter to stare at Steve.

Steve nodded with such earnest that Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. “You? Getting into fights?”

“I get into a lot of fights.” Steve said defiantly.

“You win many of them?”

“Depends on your definition of winning.”

“So, you get the life beaten out of you every time, then?”

“Not every time.” Steve said. “Sam pulls me out of some of them before much happens.”

“I kinda feel sorry for this Sam guy.” Bucky said. _Instead of jealous_ , he thought. “How’d you end up getting in fights, anyway?”

“I see someone doing something I’m not happy about, or I hear them, and things just sort of…” Steve made a vague hand gesture. “I like to stick up for people, I guess.”

“You sound like a good man.” “Bucky said quietly.

“That’s what I try to be.”

They cooked and ate, then resumed knitting.

“Do you think it’ll snow again tonight?” Steve asked Bucky.

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. And if it does, it won’t stick. It’s a lot warmer tonight, can you feel it?”

Steve nodded.

“We don’t need to share a bed tonight, if you don’t want to.” Bucky said. “It won’t get cold enough to need that. You can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the chair or something. Unless-” he hesitated. “Unless you want to sleep in the same bed. Just to be safe, of course.”

Steve went bright red. “I think… I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“So, share a bed again?” Bucky asked quietly, trying to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

Steve nodded.

Bucky would have been lying if he said that he hadn’t been ever so slightly watching Steve getting changed over his shoulder.

He only watched for a few moments as Steve pulled off his jacket and then his shirt; worn, dirty fabric sliding its way over pale, freckled skin and catching on his hair. Then he pulled Bucky’s over-sized shirt on and Bucky swallowed and looked away.

Steve watched too. Once his clothes were changed, he turned to see if Bucky was ready to get in bed, but he was in the process of turning his own sleep-shirt the right way round, leaving his back bare for Steve to stare at. One side was covered in scars where his metal arm joined onto his side but the rest of it was rippling muscle.

Steve pulled his gaze away and stared at the floor. Bucky blew out the candle.

“After you.” Bucky said lowly from behind him.

Steve swallowed and licked his lips, kicking his clothes out of his path as he walked over to the bed. He climbed in, pulling the duvet up over his shoulders and preparing to feel the mattress sink as Bucky got in.

It didn’t.

“You don’t have to stare at the wall.” Bucky said.

Steve bit his lip.

“I won’t hurt you.” now Bucky got in and slowly, cautiously, Steve rolled over so he was facing Bucky.

“I ain’t worried about you hurting me.” Steve said quietly. If it had still been light, he wouldn’t have had the guts to face Bucky.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to hurt you.” Bucky whispered.

Steve fell asleep resisting the temptation to place his forehead on Bucky’s chest.

He woke up in Bucky’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> Bit of angst.  
> Mention of fights.  
> Let me know if I miss anything!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fun begins!  
> See end notes for chapter warnings.

“Will you help me with chores again this morning?” Bucky asked over a breakfast of warm porridge and the last of the good sugar that he’d dug out of a cupboard.

Steve nodded eagerly. “The same as last time or are there other things that need to be done?”

“The animals all need to have their bedding changed, but I can do that if you’re willing to sort out food and water. And then we’ve got a lot of snow and slush to shovel.” Bucky cast a look out of the window. “A lot of it’s melted now.”

After breakfast they went out and Bucky hid the smile on his face he got from hearing Steve talk to the animals as they were fed. Changing the hay took nearly an hour, during which Steve had made friends with the cows and developed a fear of the chickens- “It tried to eat my finger!”- and a hatred for the sheep- “That thing’s knocked me over! It’s evil!”. Bucky was too busy laughing at the sight of someone sitting on the floor after being headbutted by a sheep, of all creatures.

While Steve nursed his pride, Bucky fetched the good spade he’d bought last spring and the one that had started to die last winter and gave the good one to Steve. “Come on. I want the snow piled up before it freezes and makes my paths a death trap or it slides down and blocks the door up.”

The melting snow was mixed in with the defrosting dirt of the path creating a mash of slush that got everywhere quickly. It splattered wherever they shovelled it, sloshed over their boots and over the brim, slid down the handles of the spades and onto gaps between gloves and sleeves. Steve was soon out of breath from the exertion and paused to lean on his spade and wipe his forehead, spreading more muck over his face. It was already scattered through his hair, darkening it. His cheeks were glowing red and his breath was visible against the background of foliage.

Bucky thought he looked beautiful.

“Do you have to do this every time there’s snow?” Steve asked, panting as he started shovelling again.

“Only when it snows this much. Or when there’s been a rain and then the dirt mixes with the snow. Pain to try and walk through.”

The mush piled up on the side of the path closest to the rest of the forest. Bucky was moving far more of it than Steve was. Given that he was far stronger and more muscled than Steve was- and don’t think Steve hadn’t been quietly, cautiously, watching as Bucky moved spadeful after spadeful of the slush- it was unsurprising, but the rate at which he did it seemed almost superhuman.

Even Bucky began to sweat. The paths were almost cleared and they were both utterly filthy. Steve looked up and saw Bucky’s face covered in mud and couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?”

“You’re covered in dirt.” Bucky smiled. “Come on. Baths.”

-

“You can go first.” Bucky poured the bucket of melted snow that had been heated over the fire into the tin bath he’d placed in front of the stove. “I’ll get the screens for you.”

Steve could see just how clunky the screens were and how difficult it would be to move them from one end of the room to the other. He looked at the floor and swallowed. “It’s- um- you don’t need to go to all that effort. I mean- I’ve shared a bed with you for three nights and I- I don’t mind if you see me. The screen’s gonna be difficult to move and…” Steve trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

Bucky was taken aback. “Are you- are you sure?”

Steve nodded.

“Alright then. I’ll, um, let me know when you’re done.” Bucky sat down on one of the chairs, facing away from Steve. “Have you got enough water?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky laced his fingers together and rested them on his knees. He stared at them, trying and failing to ignore the sound of Steve getting undressed.

Buttons popped undone and a shirt slid up skin before crumpling onto the floor. A belt buckle clicked open and trousers slid down, boots were tugged off and then there was a slight hiss and the sound of lapping water against the sides of the bath. Some of it sloshed over the rim and splashed on the floor.

“Is the water too hot?” Bucky asked.

“No, it- it’s fine.”

Bucky swore. “Soap.” he swallowed. “I’m really sorry, I’m gonna have to get up so that I can get it for you.”

“It’s okay.” Steve said quickly. “It’s fine.”

Bucky took a deep breath and got to his feet. He walked as quickly as he could to the shelf above his bed where he kept the box with the soap in. His back, so far, had been to Steve the whole time but now he was going to have to turn around.

He squeezed his eyes shut, steeled his nerves, opened them and turned around.

His nerves of steel melted.

The water came up to just below Steve’s shoulders; he’d slid down in the bath so most of him was out of sight. The water, though slightly dirty, didn’t hide much.

Steve’s face was flushed red from the heat of the water and he stared at Bucky with wide eyes- so  _ blue _ , how had Bucky never noticed that before? - and parted lips.

Bucky tried to concentrate on dropping the soap.

He walked to the bath, eyes on the floor, only looking up to hand Steve the soap.

“Thanks.” Steve whispered.

There was mud caked just below the back of Steve’s neck, in a spot Bucky knew was tricky to get at. “You’ve- um, you’ve got some mud on your back.” Bucky fumbled.

“Could you get it for me?” Steve asked, voice husky and low. He held the soap out to Bucky.

Bucky nodded and took the soap with trembling fingers.

He washed the mud away, trying not to think about Steve and his  _ back  _ and his  _ skin _ and-

Bucky moved slightly to give the soap back to Steve and they stared at each other.

“Can I-” Bucky whispered.

Steve leaned forwards and cut him off, pressing his lips against his.

Bucky groaned and cupped his hand around the back of Steve’s head. Steve’s wet hands came up to rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Bucky pulled away and rested his forehead against Steve’s, eyes shut and panting. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“You have your eyes shut.” Steve drawled, then tugged him in for another kiss.

The water in the bath was splashing all over Bucky, now. He couldn’t have cared less. Steve’s hands moved to the back of his neck and he found himself resting his arms on either side of the bath, leaning over Steve. Steve darted his tongue out to poke at Bucky’s lips and suddenly everything seemed to be getting an awful lot more slippery but  _ good _ , so  _ good _ and-

“Wash me.” Steve ordered, breathless. He started pressing a line of kisses up the side of Bucky’s face. “Wash me.” he pressed the soap into Bucky’s hand and then started tugging at the hem of Bucky’s shirt. “Can I take this off?”

Bucky pulled the shirt over his head and swallowed as Steve ran his hands down his chest.

“That’s a lot of scars.” Steve murmured.

“You mind ‘em?”

Steve kissed Bucky. “No. Now wash me.”

By the time they were both clean, there was more water on the floor than in the bath.

-

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy. He was sat on Bucky’s lap in the armchair in front of the fire, a large blanket draped over them. Bucky was wearing a loose pair of trousers and Steve another oversized shirt- nothing else. His legs were tucked under him, resting on top of Bucky’s as he carded his fingers through Bucky’s slowly drying hair.

Bucky’s gaze on him was full of something; Steve wasn’t quite sure what. Calloused hands were running up and down his side and then Steve forgot about Bucky’s hair because a mark was being sucked into the side of his neck.

Steve didn’t really forget about Bucky’s hair; he tightened his grip and tugged. They groaned at the same time.

“I’ve got more chores I need to do.” Bucky said. “’ll you do them with me?”

“Am I gonna get dirty again?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t be pleasant if you did; I need to feed the animals.”

“As long as I don’t have to go near the sheep or the chickens.” Steve climbed off Bucky’s lap. “And if I’ve got to go to all the effort of putting trousers on, I want you to hold my hand on the way to the barn.”

Bucky went very still. Steve wondered if he had completely misjudged the situation and if maybe Bucky wasn’t interested in anything other than making out and… well,  _ other _ things. Then Bucky kissed him and the world righted itself again.

“Darlin’, I’ll hold your hand on the way there  _ and _ the way back.”

-

“The chickens are lookin’ at me funny.” Steve told Bucky. He was sitting on top of an empty barrel, legs swinging back and forth, hands in pockets.

“Chickens don’t look at people funny.” Bucky dismissed Steve’s claims and continued grooming the horse.

“Bucky, it really is looking at me funny.” Steve insisted.

Bucky turned to look at the chickens, who were indeed, looking at Steve funny. “Damn. They really are looking at you funny.”

“Told you.” Steve said smugly.

“Congratulations on being the first man to make an enemy out of a chicken.” Bucky put the brushes away and offered Steve his arm as he jumped off the barrel.

“Do you eat your chickens?” Steve asked, sounding ever so slightly hopeful.

“Steve! Not where they can hear you!”

“I think they’d like to eat me.” Steve said flatly.

“You basically just said that you want to eat  _ them _ .” Bucky pointed out.

“Touché.”

“What?”

“It’s French.”

They walked back to the cabin and Bucky held Steve’s hand the whole way, as promised. More snow had melted since the morning but because of their shovelling, it didn’t melt in the wrong places. The air was noticeably warmer.

“I don’t think it’s gonna snow tonight either. It’ll start warming up from now. Spring will start soon.” Bucky said quietly. He opened the door for Steve.

“I should probably go back to town once the weather’s cleared up. Let everyone know I’m not dead before they hold a funeral.” Steve paused. “Or sell my house.”

“What will you do after that?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged and took his boots off.

“I could do with a hand over spring for planting and lambing and stuff like that.” Bucky said quietly.

“I’ll help.” Steve said. “If you’ll let me. I’d like that a lot.”

“Would you- and don’t make your mind up now, wait until you’ve had more time to think about it- you could move in with me, if you wanted too. Particularly if you help me in the fields and stuff. I own a couple just on the edge of the wood. But if you’d miss your own work and your friends and life in a town and stuff, then you should stay where you’ll be happier.”

Steve opened his mouth to answer but Bucky held a hand up to stop him. “Are you about to give me an answer?”

Steve closed his mouth and looked at the floor. “I’ve already made a decision and I don’t think it’s gonna change.”

“Wait until tomorrow.” Bucky encouraged. “Sleep on it. Then in the morning, we’ll go into town and you can see your friends and make sure your house is alright and stuff. Seeing all that could make you change your mind.”

“Okay.” Steve agreed. “Okay. I’ll wait until after tomorrow.”

Sharing a bed was very different that night. Steve curled into Bucky and rested his head on his chest, arm flung over his stomach.

Bucky slept peacefully; he fell asleep running his fingers through Steve’s hair. it took Steve longer to fall asleep, the throbbing of his heart drummed a message against his ribs until he understood it.

Bucky, this slightly wild man in a cabin in the woods who knitted blankets and kept murderous chickens, was it for him.

It felt pretty good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Implied/referenced sex  
> Implied Steve briefly wondering if Bucky is only interested in him for sex, despite there being no actual sex scenes in the fic  
> Steve says he'd like to eat the chickens


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for chapter warnings. Only one more to go!

The path through the forest was thankfully clear as Steve and Bucky made their way into town the next morning. Bucky had hitched the horses up to his wagon at first light, despite Steve’s suggestion that they stay in a nice warm bed for a bit longer (“As much as I would love to, the weather doesn’t wait for me.” “I will.” Bucky groaned and gave in slightly, kissing Steve for slightly longer than he should have before darting out of the cabin to stop himself from getting distracted again.) and once the rest of the animals had been checked on, Bucky loaded up the cart with food, blankets and a pile of sacks.

Bucky held the bread between his teeth as he flicked the reins to start the horses, then began to chew on it. “Food because I’m not paying for it if we have food anyway and if there’s bad weather we could be there for a while, blankets for the same reason and sacks so I don’t have to buy ‘em off Stark to carry stuff back.”

“What are you buying?”

“Feed, flour, sugar, yeast. I can drop you off wherever you want and then I’ll go and get it, so you don’t have to come with me. I want to call in on the blacksmith and then I’ll come and find you again, see whether you’re staying in town for now or not. Do you know where you want to go?”

“I’ll go to the store with you.” Steve said, squeezing Bucky’s knee. “I want to see Tony and Pepper. They’ll know where Sam is; I’ll need to see him and then I’ll check my house; I imagine Nat will probably come and find me.”

“Do you want me to drop you off somewhere after the store?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s alright. I’ll find my own way. What time do you want to leave town?”

“An hour before dark at the latest.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure I find you before then.”

“Steve-”

“I still haven’t told you what my decision is, so I’ve kept my side of the deal.” Steve said smugly.

Bucky sighed. “You have.”

-

The only person they saw between the cabin and town was a teenager shoveling snow off a dirt track leading down to a farm. He paid them no attention until just after the cart had passed him.

“Mr Rogers?” he called after them.

Steve turned around to face him. “Yeah?”

“Everyone in town thinks you’re dead. They think the snow got you.” the boy called.

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Bet Stark screams when he sees you.” Bucky said once they were out of earshot of the boy.

“It’ll be out of horror because he’ll have tried to buy my house.”

-

When they reached the store, Steve went in first while Bucky hitched the horses to the post outside.

Pepper shrieked when she saw him and rushed around the counter to hug him. “You’re not dead!” she pulled away and stared at him in amazement. “What happened to you? Sam said that you’d gone into the woods and then there was that storm and you didn’t come back and no one could go to look for you so we thought you must have got hypothermia or something or frostbite or-”

“What’s going on?” Tony walked in from the back and his jaw dropped. “What the-”

“Steve didn’t die!” Pepper said excitedly.

“How?” Tony demanded.

“Nice to see you too, Tony.” Steve drawled. “I-”

Bucky walked in; empty sacks draped over his arm. “Morning Tony, Ms Potts.” he turned to Steve. “Did he scream?”

Steve shook his head and Tony stared at them in astonishment. “You two know each other?”

Steve nodded. “He saved me from the storm. He’s been looking after me.”

Bucky blushed and stared at his feet. “You did come knocking on my door in the middle of a blizzard. I couldn’t exactly turn you away.”

“Do you know where Sam is?” Steve asked Tony. “I want to see him.”

“Sam’s been distraught.” Pepper said. “He wanted to go and look for you, but the weather was too bad.”

“He’ll be at his house.” Tony said. “Can I get anything for you Buckaroo?”

Bucky scowled and Steve burst out giggling. “Buckaroo?”

“It’s only coz he knows I can’t buy stuff from anywhere else.” Bucky muttered. “Bag of flour, half a bag of sugar, some yeast and four bags of feed.”

“Not much, then, for first thing in the morning when Steve Roger’s just come back from the dead.” Tony grumbled.

“This is gonna take a while.” Bucky said to Steve. “D’you wanna go and see your friend?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll meet you at the bar at midday. Is that alright?”

Bucky nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to watch Steve leave the store.

“You hurt that man and not only will I never sell you anything again I will also hunt you down and make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.” Tony told Bucky quietly.

Bucky gave Tony a sad smile; he wasn’t quite sure why. “I wouldn’t hurt him. Ever. I couldn’t.”

-

Sam looked like he was going to faint when he saw Steve standing on his doorstep.

“You’ve come back to haunt me for breaking your teapot.” he said weakly, clutching at the door frame.

“Nah. I’m still alive.”

Sam gawped at him and then pulled him into a tight hug. “I thought I’d lost you.” Sam whispered. “I thought you were dead and I was never gonna see you again.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Steve said, grinning. “Someone’s gotta keep you outta mischief on Friday night.”

“I object to that statement.” Sam declared. “I keep you out of mischief on Friday night. Now get in here and explain to me exactly how you’re not dead.”

-

“So, you met a guy in the woods who keeps evil chickens and he saved your life and now you want to move in with him?” Sam said bluntly.

Steve winced. “When you put it like that it doesn’t sound so great, but-”

“Why do you want to stay living with him? You live here, you work here, why on earth would you go and live in a log cabin in the woods with some guy you barely know? What would you do there?”

“I think I might love him.” Steve said flatly. “And I have had, over the last few days, some of the best days of my life. I love being around him and spending time with him and you haven’t even seen what he looks like yet, Sam-”

Sam cut him off. “I know you don’t do things by halves, Steve Rogers, but this takes the biscuit.” he folded his arms. “Does this mean I’m gonna have to start working by myself or are you just gonna go back and forth every day until you get sick of it and come back here because you fell out with your new boyfriend.”

“I’m not going to get sick of it.” Steve said smugly. “You wait and see, Sam Wilson. You wait and see.”

Steve groaned. “Now you’re just gonna do it out of spite, aren’t you?”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “No. Jokes aside, Steve, I think I love him. And I think I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

Sam was silent for a moment. “I believe you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “You believe me _that quick_?”

“Yep. But I don’t think you’re gonna enjoy living in the woods and I am slightly concerned that the chickens are gonna kill you if they’re as bad as you say they are.”

“We’ll see.” Steve said. “I’m meeting Bucky at the bar at midday. You wanna meet him?”

-

“I like Sam.” Bucky said contemplatively after Steve had left the bar- someone’s front door had broken and he was needed to fix it.

“I’m glad.” Steve said quietly, staring at his drink. “Did everything go alright at the stove?”

Bucky nodded. “And at the blacksmiths.”

“Can I tell you my decision now?” Steve asked, voice low.

“If you want.” Bucky said softly.

“I’m staying with you.”

They were in a dark corner. Bucky didn’t think twice about leaning across the table to kiss Steve, who gasped and then tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hair to pull him closer.

“I’m guessing you’re okay with that decision, then.” Steve said slightly breathlessly.

Bucky nodded and gave Steve another gentle kiss, barely more than brushing their lips together. “I quite like it. What are you gonna do about your house and your things?”

“I’ll deal with them.” Steve said. “Just not today. There’s one more person I’d like to see and then I wanna go back with you.” he paused “home.”

Bucky kissed him again.

He didn’t pull away until someone coughed next to them, clearly trying to get their attention.

Steve gave a cry of joy when he saw who it was. Bucky swore, but Steve didn’t notice. The woman slapped Steve around the face, but there was no malice behind it.

“You made us _miserable_.” she told Steve. “Miserable. We were gonna hold a funeral for you and everything; would’ve done it by now except Sam wanted us to wait for the snow to melt so we could go to the forest and look for your body. I told him the wolves would get you before we did. I hear you have a new friend.” she turned to face Bucky. “Barnes.”

“Romanoff.”

Steve looked back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”

Natasha smirked. “We do indeed. He tried to kill me, so I tried to kill him and then I patched him up back at my house.”

Steve gaped at Bucky. “You tried to kill her?”

“I thought she was going to kill me! And I was drunk.”

“As was I.” Natasha admitted. She pulled up a chair and sat down with them. “And before that we’d worked together. Did you tell him about that?”

Bucky nodded. “I told him about what I did but I didn’t know Steve knew you. What are you doing now?”

“I work for the sheriff.” Natasha flashed her badge. Bucky hadn’t noticed it before. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“First place I figured was far enough after I broke out of jail for killing Rumlow.”

“Don’t ever try to kill each other again.” Steve said. “I’m guessing you two aren’t friends, then.”

Natasha grinned and laughed. “Are you kidding? He’s my best friend.”

-

“Are you really best friends with Natasha?” Steve asked as they went back into the cabin.

“We were. Probably still are now.” Bucky smiled. “Welcome home.”

Steve looped his arms around Bucky’s neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “Thanks for letting me move in with you.”

“I can’t really believe you came back with me.” Bucky admitted.

“Well, I did.” Steve’s eyes were twinkling. “What you gonna do with me now?”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and hoisted him up, so their faces were level and Steve’s legs were wrapped around Bucky. “Darlin', I’ve got all sorts of things to do with you.”

Steve beamed for a split second, then surged forward to start licking his way into Bucky’s mouth. “Do any of those things involve your bed by any chance?”

Bucky groaned as Steve kissed below his ear and started walking towards the bed. “I’m gonna need to get a bigger one, aren’t I?”

Steve murmured his agreement and kept his arms around Bucky’s neck as he was lowered onto the bed. “This one will do for now, though.”

There was a noticeable lack of coherent words for the following hour or so.

-

Steve woke up some time in the middle of the night when Bucky began to scream. He couldn’t see anything; the candles were all out and there was no light of any sort coming through the curtains. He rolled around to face Bucky and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him, trying to wake him up. “Bucky! Bucky! Wake up!”

Bucky started to thrash around and his scream turned into a series of grunts.

“Bucky! Wake up, please, come on.”

The grunting stopped and Steve heard Bucky wake. He was panting and his hands were curling and uncurling in his blankets.

“You were screaming.” Steve whispered. “Were you- were you having a nightmare? Are you alright?”

Bucky continued to pant. “I- I-” there was a combination of fear and panic laced into his voice.

“I’ll get some light.” Steve said, biting his lip and scrambling out of the bed. He ran his hands along the bed frame and used his feet to guide his way over to the table and then to the dresser.

“Steve? Steve, where have you-” Bucky’s voice was fraught with worry.

“I’m just getting a candle.” Steve soothed. “Once there’s light you’ll feel better.”

Steve found the handle of one of the drawers and pulled it open, reaching inside blindly and running his fingers past metal and wood until he found a smooth, round, wax candle. He fumbled and pulled it out, then patted the contents until he found a matchbox. Placing the candle between the fingers of his right hand, he took out a match and lit it, holding it to the wick of the candle as quickly as he could.

The candle lit up and part of the room and Steve could see Bucky lying in the blankets, sweating and scared. He could also see the contents of the drawer and he froze. Bucky didn’t notice.

“The light’s helped.” Bucky said quietly. “Get the candle holder from the table.”

“What’s all- Bucky, why is there all this stuff in the drawer?” Steve pulled it open further and lowered the candle so he could see it better. The drawer was full of knives, sharp knives, wicked knives, not the kind you used for meat or rope or even the kind that got used for butchery. The papers- wanted posters, letters, warning. There was a glint of metal underneath them.

Steve shifted the papers and shivers ran down his spine. It was a gun. “Bucky? Why is there…”

Bucky swore in what Steve presumed was Romanian. “I can explain.”

Steve turned around to face him. “There are knives as well.”

“You know the guy Natasha said she killed? Rumlow?” Bucky said.

Steve nodded.

“He wanted me dead. He didn’t like that I stopped working for him, he didn’t like that he’d had my arm fixed and then I left. I’ve been- I kept all of that so if he found me, I maybe would have a chance against him. And then fun was also for if a bear attacked the animals.” Bucky got out of bed and walked over to Steve. He put a hand on his shoulder. “I promise. I’ll get rid of the knives tomorrow. And I’ll get a rifle instead of a pistol.”

Steve pushed the drawer shut and his hands fell to his sides. “That guy really scared you, huh?”

Bucky nodded silently.

“It’s hard to imagine you being scared.” Steve said. He looked up at Bucky, face giving nothing away. “You’re so big and strong, you live in the middle of the wood by yourself, you have a metal arm. It’s- I don’t wanna try and think of the kind of thing that might scare you.”

“You’re one to talk.” Bucky said quietly, running a thumb along Steve’s cheekbone. “You’re tiny and a scrap of a thing. You should be scared of everything, especially with that mouth of yours that gets you in trouble like it does. ‘cept I don’t think you’ve ever been scared in your whole life. Not of death, not of trouble, not of fights, not of punishment.”

“Most people just think I’m really stupid.” Steve said. “I don’t ever believe them, not ever, not until I saw those knives.”

Bucky opened the drawer and took the knives, the gun and the papers out. He walked to the front door, undid the books with the back of his hand and his teeth, then pushed it open. It was raining outside and the wind was steadily getting stronger. Bucky threw his armful of stuff outside and then closed the door.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Steve said.

“I did. Don’t wanna be the only thing you’ve ever thought was a stupid thing to have done.”

Steve hugged him. “Are you alright?”

Bucky nodded into Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

They stood there for a long time; Steve on tiptoe with his arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck and Bucky standing very, very still.

“I’ll show you how to make goats’ cheese in the morning.” Bucky murmured. “And if you want, we’ll go back to town the day after and you can get your stuff.”

“And you gonna start making a bigger bed?”

Bucky nodded and pulled away. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“S’alright.”

For a very brief moment, Steve could understand why Bucky had been feared. In the light of one candle and one candle alone, with his hair tumbling over his shoulders in such a way that it almost looked black, with sharp features, harsh eyes and metal strong enough to-

But it was only for a moment and then all Steve could see were muscles for miles and a gorgeous face and the man that had taken a stranger in out of the cold, saved his life, fed him and offered to risk his life to take him home.

The look Bucky gave him instilled one thing and one thing only in Steve’s heart: the knowledge that the only people that needed to fear Bucky were the ones who tried to hurt Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> Mention of death  
> Mention of frostbite  
> Mention of hypothermia  
> Mention of attempted murders  
> Mention of murder  
> Mention of jail  
> Implied sex  
> Nightmares  
> Mention of guns and knives, which make Steve very briefly second guess whether or not Bucky is safe for him to be around  
> Mention of fights


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings in end notes. Final chapter! I hope you've enjoyed this fic!

The morning of the day they left to fetch Steve’s things, the horses did not want to be harnessed to the cart.

More precisely, they did not want to be harnessed to the cart by Bucky.

This was quite probably because Steve, who was sitting in the doorway and lacing his boots up, had a carrot in his pocket.

Bucky stood next to the cart and watched, arms folded and unamused, as Steve giggled and tried to bat the horses away. “You wanna go and get your stuff or not?”

Steve laughed again. “C’mon, Buck, look at them! It’s funny!”

One of the horses took advantage of Steve’s distraction to steal the carrot out of his pocket. Then it was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “Come on. Let’s go and get your things.”

-

Steve’s friends came around to help load Steve’s possessions onto the cart and claim for themselves anything Steve wasn’t taking with him.

“Dibs on his table!” Sam called over his shoulder to Natasha as he walked into the house. “Mine is still broken from your axe.”

“You took an axe to his table?” Bucky asked Natasha incredulously.

“Don’t ask.”

Bucky stayed with the horses while Steve, Sam and Natasha went in and out of the house carrying a lot of paint, clothes, a chair, blankets, a couple of chests and a large quantity of cooking supplies.

“You leaving much?” Bucky asked jokingly.

“Kitchen sink.” Steve flashed Bucky a grin and leaned up to kiss him. “Your cabin isn’t set up for people or proper cooking.”

“It is.” Bucky said, confused.

“What can you do beyond cornbread, frying stuff and soup?” Steve asked.

Bucky didn’t answer.

“My point exactly.”

Once Steve had removed everything he wanted from the house, Bucky and Natasha started tying it down in the cart while Steve went to sign documents at the sheriff’s office with the buyer of his house and Sam dragged the table out of the back door sideways.

“You gonna offer me a hand?” Sam yelled at them, exasperated. “Natasha?”

“I’ll give you an axe.” Natasha offered. Sam made a rude gesture but, though laughing, Natasha went over to help him. “Are we dragging this all the way to your house?”

“I was kind of hoping we’d be carrying it, but sure, dragging will do.” Sam said sarcastically.

Bucky zoned out of their conversation and concentrated on checking that the horses’ harnesses were still on properly. Steve came back a few minutes later with a smile on his face and a pouch of coins at his waist. “All done!” he called.

Bucky smiled. “Ready to go, then?”

Sam and Natasha appeared at the end of the street, bickering about splinters.

Steve nodded. “Let me say goodbye first.” he jogged over to Sam and Natasha and said something; they both hugged him and Sam said something that made Steve laugh.

“Don’t let your chickens get him, Barnes!” Natasha yelled at Bucky.

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky saluted her and climbed into the cart. Steve joined him not long after.

“They’ve invited themselves around for dinner next Sunday with Tony and Pepper.” Steve said. “And I’m gonna come back the day after tomorrow to do some work with Sam.”

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d had dinner with anyone other than Steve. “Sounds good.”

They held hands the whole way home.

-

A month passed. Winter had almost appeared to be giving way to spring but had then kicked its head up with another storm before making a second retreat. Steve hadn’t escaped the second storm as he had the first; it had left him coughing and sneezing and shaking.

It had done also nothing for his stubbornness.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve said, coughing immediately afterwards. He was lying under three blankets and a quilt in their new bed. He had gone incredibly pale and his eyes and nose were red.

“You don’t look fine.” Bucky said. “You don’t look fine in the slightest.”

“Can I have some more of that tea?” Steve asked wearily.

Bucky nodded and went to fetch the teapot from the table. He poured Steve a mug and winced at the grimace on Steve’s face as he drank it. Steve handed the mug back to Bucky and leaned on the pillows, closing his eyes. Bucky reached out and took his hand. “Steve.” he said softly. “It’s been three days. And you’ve only got worse. I’m gonna go into town and get a doctor to come and have a look at you.”

“I don’t need a doctor.” Steve insisted.

“I don’t care if you think you don’t need a doctor; I’m getting one anyway.” Bucky said. “Besides, even if you might be able to get better by yourself, a doctor might know how to help you get better faster.”

Bucky marvelled at Steve’s lack of protest, then realised it was because he had fallen asleep. He sighed and for up to head for town.

-

Steve was still asleep when Bucky returned with the doctor, thank goodness. Bucky had worried the whole way there and back that Steve would have woken up to find Bucky missing and panicked.

“Steve! Steve, I need you to wake up.” Bucky shook Steve’s shoulder lightly. “Look, the doctor’s here.”

Steve opened his eyes and pulled a face at Bucky.

“Yeah, I know you didn’t want me to get the doctor, but she needs to check you over.”

Steve pulled himself up to a sitting position and smiled wearily at the doctor. “Hi.”

Bucky took several steps back and let the doctor get to work, watching on anxiously as Steve talked to the doctor in quiet voices and she ran through a series of checks.

Dr Hill smiled over her shoulder at Bucky. “We’re done.”

“And?” Bucky asked.

Steve went back to sleep and Dr Hill walked over to Bucky. “You did the right thing to come and get me.”

Bucky put his face in his hands. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He has pneumonia, but he’s gonna be okay.” Dr Hill rummaged through her bag, pulled out a bottle and scribbled a note on a piece of paper. “Follow these instructions. If he gets worse, come and get me. And don’t hesitate; if you hadn’t got me when you did, I could be giving you very different news.”

Bucky took the bottle and the paper. “Thank you. And I will.”

“I’ll come back in a couple of days.” Dr Hill said.

“Do you want me to go back to town with you?” Bucky asked, placing the bottle and the paper on the table.

Dr Hill shook her head. “You stay here and look after him.”

She let herself out and Bucky moved a chair to the side of the bed so he could hold Steve’s hand without taking up space on the bed. “She gave you medicine.” Bucky muttered. “That means you did need a doctor.”

Steve slept on and didn’t reply.

Bucky made sure that Steve didn’t miss a single dose of medicine and that he followed each and every one of the instructions the doctor had left. He did all the chores in five-minute blocks so that he left Steve alone for as little time as possible and when the doctor came to check on Steve, she declared him to be on the mend.

“He saved your life.” she told Steve. “If he hadn’t come to get me on Tuesday, you could be dead right now. He’s a good man, you stick with him.”

“I will.”

“You should be alright from here on now. Come and get me if you start to get bad again and I’ll give you more medicine.” the doctor left.

Bucky sat next to Steve and took his hand.

“Thank you.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand.

“What would I have done without you?”

“I meant what I told her. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ve only been here a couple of months. You might still change your mind.”

Steve shook his head. “No. It’s me and you forever now, if you’ll have me.”

“Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I’m not asking you for marriage. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line and I wanna know if you’re with me there or not.”

“Those are pretty big words to go throwing around for someone you’ve known less than a season.” Bucky says weakly.

“I’m not throwing them around.” Steve stroked his thumb over Bucky’s knuckles. “I mean them. And how long I’ve known you doesn’t matter. I know a good thing when I find it and I never really know how long it’ll be until I get a cold that might finish me off. So I don’t wanna wait before telling you that.”

Bucky was silent.

“I’m never gonna find anyone my soul belongs with like it does with you. You’re it for me. You’re my end of the line. I wanna know if I’m yours.”

“Soon as you’re better we’re going to town to find a lawyer so you get everything if I die.” Bucky said suddenly. “You are- you are, completely and utterly. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I love you more than I know and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you. When you add all that together, you are undoubtedly…” Bucky trailed off. He looked at the floor mournfully. “I’m supposed to be the scary wild man from the woods with a metal arm and you’ve made me sound like a blithering softie!”

Steve laughed through a fit of coughing and Bucky joined him, giggling like a child. He sprawled backwards across the quilt and squeezed Steve’s hand. The coughing stopped

“Have you got to go and do chores?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. “I have to face the evil chickens.”

They’d turned against Bucky now as well.

“Are you sure we can’t eat them?”

“Yes.”

“Spoilsport.”

-

Winter finally gave up and the pneumonia freed Steve from its clutches. Spring came crashing through the wood, across the fields and into town. Flowers began to bloom across the woodland floor, Bucky finally got some new chickens and the first lambs came.

Steve had never seen a lamb being born before the night when Buck had dragged him out of bed to stand in the barn and hold a lantern while Bucky supervised the lamb’s delivery.

“Is there supposed to be that much blood?” Steve asked sceptically, watching in slight horror as the lamb began to appear.

“Yeah. You never seen an animal giving birth before?”

“Nope.”

“Humans bleed way more.” Bucky said casually. “If you think this is bad.”

“How do you know- never mind.” Steve kept his eyes fixed on his boots.

“Lots of little sisters.” Bucky said. “Move over here for a bit.”

After the lamb was born and happily feeding, Bucky went to wash his hands in a tub outside the barn and Steve waited for him in the cabin doorway. “How many more of them have we got to do?”

“Three. You can have a go next time, if you want.”

“I’ll stick to holding the lantern.”

-

Steve was much more keen on the lambs after they’d all been born and were bounding around the field Bucky owned. He took up feeding the sheep as soon as they moved to the field on his way to and from the town everyday. Bucky would meet him at the edge of the wood and carry his bag the rest of the way home and it was probably the best part of Steve’s day.

With spring and lambs and flowers came rain, which when combined with the path Steve and Bucky walked themselves and the livestock along, meant an awful lot of mud. After one particularly soggy day, Steve slipped over twice before he’d even caught sight of Bucky.

“This is miserable.” Steve said as he walked up to Bucky, mud squelching in and around his boots. “When’s the mud gonna dry up?”

“Probably not for a while yet.” Bucky winced when he caught the extent of the mud all over Steve. “Yuk. I’d put my arm around you but… that’s a lot of mud.”

Steve retaliated by flicking mud at Bucky.

“Hey!” Bucky tried to wipe the mud off his jacket but merely ended up with it all over his hands. “That’s gross.”

“So are you. Have you seen your boots?” Steve teased, elbowing Bucky playfully in the ribs. “And your trousers?” he paused. “I think you’ve got mud in your hair.”

“You put mud in my hair?” Bucky asked incredulously. “Steve!”

“I didn’t get mud in your hair; it’s dry. It must have been there all day.” Steve laughed and Bucky scowled.

“As soon as we get back, we’re having a bath. I’m having a bath and then you need one after.”

“Deal. Just change the bathwater.”

Bucky hated changing the bathwater. It always ended up getting water over the cabin floor and swamping the ground by the front door.

“D’you fancy sharing instead?” Bucky suggested.

Steve beamed at him. “Duh.”

-

Most of the mud had been on Steve’s clothes, so consequently ended up on the floor instead of dirtying the water in the new, larger, tin bath.

This suited both Steve and Bucky perfectly; the water was clean enough to laze in happily and Steve was able to lie on top of Bucky without feeling like a pig in mud. Bucky was leaning back against the side of the bath, hair lying over the edge. His metal arm was draped along the rim and Steve was draped across his chest, chin resting on Bucky’s collarbone. The bath was practically big enough for him to float in, but he kept his knees on either side of Bucky’s hips and stroked Bucky’s side with his fingertips.

“You happy to stay silent or do you want to talk?” Steve asked.

“I’ll do silence if it means kissing.” Bucky offered.

Steve pushed himself up and shifted position so he could lean down to kiss Bucky, Bucky smiled into the kiss and sat up so he could pull Steve into his lap and kiss him harder. Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s chest and stomach feeling solid muscle and marvelling.

Bucky pulled away from Steve so he could breathe for a bit and stared at him shamelessly. Steve didn’t notice, still concentrating on Bucky’s muscles.

“You’re gargantuan compared to me.” Steve murmured, almost to himself.

Bucky’s attempt to bite back his smile failed. “Not quite as much as I used to be.”

Steve frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

Bucky smiled and tapped Steve’s arm. “You hadn’t noticed?”

Steve stared at his arm and a smile began to cross his face. “I’ve got muscle!” he kissed Bucky soundly. “I bet I’m stronger than you now. Let’s arm wrestle!”

“In the bath?”

“Yep.”

Using arm-wrestling to lure Bucky into kissing him senseless became one of Steve’s favourite tactics.

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> Mention of an axe  
> Steve gets pneumonia  
> Mention of illnesses  
> Mention of a doctor  
> Mention of medicine  
> A sheep gives birth
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr! I'm silvermyfanwy.


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